Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

Zhao Weiguo's voice was loud and clear, full of energy, and also incorporated a touch of traditional opera.

The audience fell silent.

Teacher Fang squinted and nodded slightly.

Teacher Chen was also writing something on the paper.

Leader Wu's eyes lit up.

Even Zhang Dabiao nodded in agreement. This Zhao Weiguo really did have some skill, if Zhang Dabiao hadn't heard so many opera tunes in his later life.

But for this era, Zhao Weiguo had his own ideas!

Compared to the opera singing of later generations... it's completely incomparable.

The fusion of traditional opera singing style and popular singing style was handled very poorly.

When the song ended, thunderous applause erupted.

Old Zhou pondered for a few seconds and glanced at the judges beside him.

Teacher Chen spoke first: "The lyrics are well chosen; 'Man Jiang Hong' is a classic. The melody is also good; it has momentum and power."

Teacher Fang nodded: "Your singing skills are solid, and your emotions are full. The second half was a little rushed, but overall it was very good."

The judges exchanged opinions and then announced the scores.

—9.2 points—

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

The highest score so far is 0.7 points higher than the second group!

Zhao Weiguo's face was tense, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up.

He bowed to the judges' panel and led his entourage off the stage.

As he passed Zhang Dabiao, he paused and lowered his voice, "Zhang, it's your turn."

Zhang Dabiao glanced at him, said nothing, and then laughed.

[Zhao Weiguo, oh Zhao Weiguo, prepare yourself for the dimensional attack from the future!]

"Group 4: Mu Wanqing, Zhang Dabiao, Han Xiaomeng, Tang Min."

Title: Do You Know?

After the student council member finished speaking, a murmur arose from the crowd.

"Is that the vocational school student?"

"Yes, I heard he doesn't play any musical instruments."

"How can we compare? The previous score was 9.2!"

"Who knows? We'll see."

Mu Wanqing's palms were a little sweaty.

She glanced at Zhang Dabiao; this song was a duet.

Zhang Dabiao smiled at her, a smile as cheeky as ever, but for some reason, it made her feel inexplicably at ease.

"Let's go," he said.

Four people walked onto the stage.

Han Xiaomeng held a bamboo flute, and Tang Min held a morin khuur. They were already familiar with the "Song of Changle" when they practiced it, so they decided to use these two instruments again.

Mu Wanqing and Zhang Dabiao both stood in the middle of the stage, which confused everyone.

Because in this era, there was almost no music featuring male-female duets.

Some people in the audience couldn't help but laugh.

"What is that person here for?"

"I don't know, maybe they're just there to make up the numbers?"

Zhao Weiguo was also laughing, and turned to Liu Yuanchao, saying, "Look, he can't play any musical instruments, he just stands there like a telephone pole."

Liu Yuanchao also laughed, but as he laughed, he suddenly felt that something was wrong.

Zhang Dabiao showed no sign of nervousness.

Instead... he wore an expression he couldn't understand.

That expression, how should I put it, was like an adult watching a group of children playing house.

"Let's begin," said Old Zhou.

Han Xiaomeng took a deep breath and set up the flute.

Tang Min set up the morin khuur, with the bow suspended in mid-air.

Mu Wanqing closed her eyes, then opened them again.

Then, the sound of a bamboo flute began.

Extremely light and soft, like willow catkins blown by the wind, drifting and falling gently.

The audience fell silent.

That kind of quiet was different from the quiet before.

The silence ahead signifies "waiting to hear."

The current silence means "we've been caught."

Mu Wanqing spoke.

"When the flowers bloom beside the willows, I mistakenly seek out the Pavilion Master while searching for their fragrance—"

His voice was clear and bright, carrying a hint of languor, a hint of melancholy, and a hint of something indescribable.

Teacher Fang stopped writing.

Teacher Chen's eyes narrowed.

Old Zhou slowly sat up straight, his body leaning back in the chair.

"Drinking in the morning glow for half a day, untouched by wind and rain—"

Tang Min's morin khuur (horsehead fiddle) gently blended in, soft and gentle, like a sigh.

Someone in the audience unconsciously gasped.

That voice was so different.

It is completely different from the previous passionate, powerful, and energetic works.

It's soft, it's gentle, it makes you want to sigh.

Moreover, these performance halls don't have microphones; it's all vocals. How to describe the feeling—

As expected of a music academy, not a single person dared to breathe loudly!

However, it also depends on the stage design, which allows the sound to travel very clearly.

Just as everyone was quietly waiting for Mu Wanqing to continue singing, a gentle male voice came out—Zhang Dabiao was starting to sing!

"The palace lord, once so frail and thin, now stands high on the platform, tears too hard to shed—"

Zhang Dabiao's voice rose slightly, but he still kept it under control.

That restrained feeling actually makes people want to listen even more.

I'm even more eager to hear what he has to say.

"Having sent the letter, I turn back suddenly, only to find no years left to steal away—"

Then, the melody changed.

Last night, the rain was sparse and the wind was strong; even a deep sleep couldn't dispel the lingering effects of the wine.

Someone in the audience let out a soft "Ah".

It is a poem by Li Qingzhao.

That song, "Like a Dream," which they had memorized since childhood.

But paired with this melody, paired with this singing style—

It's completely different now.

"If you ask the person who rolls up the curtain, they'll say the crabapple blossoms are still there—"

Vocalist Fang's eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

She didn't know why.

She just remembered her childhood, the poems she had memorized, and things that once seemed distant, and suddenly they came alive in her ears.

"Do you know, do you know—"

Mu Wanqing's voice trembled slightly as she sang this part.

That tremor wasn't a technique; it came from the heart.

The lyrics, especially the climax part, gave everyone goosebumps!

The entire place was silent; no one dared to breathe loudly, for fear of affecting Mu Wanqing and Zhang Dabiao's performance!

"It should be a scene of lush greenery and faded red blossoms—"

When the last note faded, the morin khuur (horsehead fiddle) was put away, and the bamboo flute was put away as well.

The hall was so quiet that Zhang Dabiao picked at his ears—"Are my ears blocked?"

There was a three-second silence.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

Then--

applause.

It wasn't the kind of polite applause; it was the kind of applause that had been held back for a long time and finally burst forth.

Someone stood up and applauded.

Someone clapped and turned to the person next to them, asking, "Who wrote this? Who adapted it?!"

"I don't know, but it sounds so good!"

"That girl sings so well!"

"That guy's an art student? You call him an art student? Why doesn't he study music?"

"The instrumentation and music are absolutely superb!"

Teacher Fang took off her glasses and wiped the corner of her eye.

Teacher Chen stared at the scoring sheet in her hand, not writing anything for a long time.

Old Zhou remained silent for a long time, then turned to Leader Wu beside him.

What do you think?

Leader Wu smiled and said only one word.

"it is good."

------------

The judges began to display their scores.

9.5 points.

9.6 points.

9.7 points.

Final average score – 9.65 points –

Even the student judging panel gave it high marks!

People aren't stupid, and there's no such thing as capital operation these days.

We do have some connection with you, Zhao Weiguo, but this music is just too powerful!

We respect art!

We cannot go against our conscience!

The entire venue erupted in cheers!

Zhao Weiguo's face froze.

He turned to look at Liu Yuanchao, whose mouth was open and remained so for a long time.

Zhang Mingyuan stood there, stunned, and almost dropped the hand drum in his hand.

"Impossible..." Zhao Weiguo murmured, "How could this be..."

But the facts are right before our eyes.

9.65 points.

They scored 0.45 points higher than them.

The first place has changed hands.

We're doomed!

Mu Wanqing stood on the stage, listening to the applause from below, her eyes a little red.

She knows she sings well and she loves to sing, but from childhood to adulthood, whenever there was a singing performance in class, she could only sing along or be a background figure.

She never even dared to dream of being the lead singer!

She turned to look at Zhang Dabiao.

The man was still standing beside her, still wearing that same smug smile.

It was as if he had foreseen all of this.

His eyes seemed to say, "With me here, there's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Let's go," he said, "we're stepping down."

Mu Wanqing nodded and followed him downstairs.

As I walked to the edge of the stage, I was suddenly stopped by someone.

It is Zhao Weiguo.

He stood there, his face grim, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—a smile of resentment and defiance.

"Congratulations, Mu Wanqing," his voice was a little hoarse.

Mu Wanqing was stunned for a moment, unsure how to respond.

Zhao Weiguo continued, "But I have a question."

He turned to the judges' panel and raised his voice slightly.

"Director Zhou, Teacher Chen, leaders, I have something to say."

Director Zhou frowned slightly, but still nodded: "Speak."

Zhao Weiguo took a deep breath.

"The rules for this competition allow us to bring in outside help. But—" He pointed to Zhang Dabiao, "this outside helper, Zhang Dabiao, isn't from our school. Our outside helpers are all just arrangers or musicians, but he's involved in the lead vocals—"

"Isn't this against the rules?!"